


Surveillance

by angelmira



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelmira/pseuds/angelmira
Summary: Their first kiss was not suppose to happened like that. At all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to say thank you to detectivecaz and saye0036. Thanks to these wonderful ladies my stories are hundred times better than the first draft. *lol*

**SURVEILLANCE**

 

Harold flinched with a loud crash that Miss Shaw caused by tossing a duffle bag. It hit the floor near Harold’s work table and he was back in the present from his daydream. It was like a loop always playing before Harold’s eyes. That night replayed in his mind over and over. The image of John on that roof, haunted him in daydreams and nightmares. The day everything went horribly, catastrophically wrong…

 

It should have been Harold on that roof, it was all his fault for building the Machine and giving it a life of it’s own.

A month ago, John wanted to give up his life for Harold and save the world from Samaritan. John was shot, but thankfully rescued by the Numbers that they had encountered in the past. Their group retreated halfway down the building, dragging John out, when the missile exploded on the roof. They all managed to get out in the last possible second, but Harold still couldn’t look John in the eyes without feeling like John betrayed him.

 

***

 

John Reese considered himself to be a fairly easygoing man. Not many things could rattle his nerves. He was focused, aware of his surroundings and when he needed help, he could always count on Harold Finch to help him. When John couldn't rely on Finch, there were people they helped along the way, their former Numbers, who had John's back. They all answered to the Machine.

 

John and Finch had so many close calls in the past, but none of them left them as rattled as their final battle with Samaritan. 

 

John felt it brewing under the surface of their everyday conversation every time they parted ways. Harold did everything in his power to stay out of John's way. John on the other hand, watched him closely and tried to not allow the former millionaire from his sight.  He could see that this frustrated Harold to no end.

 

"Everything alright, Mr. Reese?"

 

John's earpiece came to life. He could hear the concern in Harold's voice. The moment they met in the car after that missile hit the rooftop, Harold had become frosty and every question was coated in ice. John knew that Harold was seething with anger. Being addressed as _Mr. Reese_ again was his first clue.

 

"Everything's calm on my side," John answered truthfully. "What about your end?" 

 

They were currently working on another Number. John watched the apartment door of the man they were suppose to guard. Harold volunteered to be on the surveillance of his girlfriend, along with Shaw.

 

"Nothing; as I expected. I sent Miss Shaw to take Bear for a walk."

 

John had to calm himself to prevent curling his hands into fists. Harold was staying alone in their base in the train depot, it was trying John’s nerves, but he knew it was inevitable. Their lair was probably the safest place for Harold.

 

Problems arose when Harold deliberately sought out solitude during assignments. "You know I don't like you somewhere alone, Harold."

 

"Miss Shaw was hungry and I'm sure Bear needed some exercise, by this point. Poor Bear was left alone half the day and night." Harold explained without much inflection - calm and detached - it was his new default setting.

 

"You couldn't be the one to go out with Bear?" John had to rely on his training to make himself sound fairly disinterested. 

 

"I wasn't the one who was hungry and unpleasant."

 

John would definitely have a conversation with Shaw in the near future about this. No reason to blame Harold. John expected from him something like this, but as an agent, she knew better.

 

John understood Harold's situation. He didn't like to work with Shaw when she was in a mood either. It didn't mean John could easily accept the explanation. Harold was still three blocks from John, if things went south on his end John couldn’t get there in time.

 

John couldn't help himself, when he whispered: "Be careful, Harold."

 

"Always, Mr. Reese," Harold hissed in an angry reply.

 

There were times John loved Harold whispering something similar to him. It meant Harold was concerned for John. John heard the phrase often in angry inflection three weeks after his last surgery. And he hated that tone of Harold's voice.

 

John only hoped this night would be as easy assignment, as promised. He could do surveillance from the car practically in his sleep. All looked well. John's phone remained silent. If something went wrong, the unknown number from the Machine would let him know. John was glad She was still keeping tabs on them.

 

"The girlfriend's on the move, Mr. Reese. I'm going after her."

 

Not on John's watch. "Stay where you are, Harold! She's probably going to her boyfriend’s over here. The Machine will track her on the way and I will see her soon enough." After all, it was only three blocks away and she would be in visual soon.

 

"She's heading the other way," Harold informed him, suddenly out of breath.

 

"Harold!" John hissed impatiently. Harold obviously didn't wait, and left to go  after her himself. "We talked about this." John was out of the car in a second and running in their direction.

 

"We talked about a lot of meaningless things, Mr. Reese. She's in a hurry, going west."

 

"Do I want to know what brought this on?" John said as he kept the steady running pace, without getting out of breath.  He cut a few corners, hoping to get ahead of her. The strain of past situations, made them both more opened and anxious.

 

"I think she knows I'm following her," Harold mumbled nervously in John’s earpiece. "John... I think she may have a weapon in her coat pocket."

 

John hated the fear in Harold's voice. "I'm almost there. Stop where you are and keep looking at your watch."

 

John slowed, cut another corner, and almost collided with the woman. "Sorry." He didn't pay her any attention. He walked around her and headed for Harold. From the corner of his eye he saw her crossing the street, towards the overnight deli. This was a problem. 

 

Harold was watching him with a uncertainty in his eyes. He must have been aware they have no reason to be there. Friends meeting on a deserted street in the middle of the night looked suspicious. Thanks to his military training, John still felt the woman watching them.  

 

"Mr. R..."

 

John made a split decision and almost without stopping grabbed Harold by his coat's lapels, pressed him against a wall of the building and covered his lips in a kiss. He knew Harold would have to hold onto him, because John had thrown him off balance. 

 

Harold could always count on John to never let him fall.  The other thing John knew very well was, that he had made the wrong decision the moment Harold froze in his embrace.

 

John contemplated backing out because of Harold’s reaction in the supercharged moment between them.  However, Harold then raised his fingers to John's hair and kissed him back hungrily, allowing his glasses to be knocked aside. It was not John's first rodeo , in kissing another man. When he worked for CIA, he did a lot of things nobody kept a record of. 

 

In his line of work, John let himself be kissed, he let himself be assaulted in the name of his assignment, but he never permitted himself to enjoy kissing the other person. He was a trained CIA agent and his focus had to be on his surroundings at all times. His life depended on it.

 

What surprised John the most was Harold's insistence. John always thought that Harold would be a mild-mannered and gentle lover. Once or twice, John thought about similar scenarios, when they had to pretend to be otherwise occupied just to maintain their cover. He had always pictured Harold to be unsure, and took cues, allowing John to lead. He never thought Harold would be forcefully slanting his mouth on John's and clutching at his coat and hair like a man possessed. It was wrecking John's control. It certainly didn’t allow him the luxury of only standing there keeping his lips pressed to Harold’s.

 

John could feel all the desperation behind Harold's action. John's undoing was the helpless moan of longing Harold made, when John tried to step back and ease out of the kiss.  But Harold held him still.

 

John pressed the smaller man harder into the building and stopped thinking. One hand around Harold's waist, the other on Harold's neck, John changed the angle of his face, opened his mouth slightly and finally tasted the man he waited for so long. His stomach flipped and the heat spread throughout John's body.

 

After so many weeks of not talking to each other properly and Harold constantly ignoring him, John missed the man and their closeness. He wanted to crawl under Harold's skin, just to feel him closer.  All he remembered was Harold's face when he was shutting John into that vault a month ago. 

 

John could finally breathe easily, as he currently had Harold in his arms, and the man was safe and sound. Not on the roof of another building or in danger, and not on the other side of the door going somewhere that John couldn't follow. No; he was right here and in his embrace.

 

John’s one hand desperately fumbled with the buttons on Harold's coat. He needed to feel him closer still. He froze with his lips still on Harold's, when the sound of  coughing from behind him, penetrated the fog of want.

 

"Sorry, guys," the girlfriend's voice made John finally turn slightly. "But the owner of the deli said if you don't take it somewhere else, he would call the police and have you arrested." she said sarcastically.

 

"Thanks," John cleared his throat. He glanced at the angry waving old man on the other side of the road. "Thank you," he repeated, more aware of their situation. He stepped back, this time releasing Harold. Their Number's girlfriend nodded and went home with a bottle of wine clutched in her hand.

 

John's eyes finally fell back on Harold. He was breathing hard, straightening his glasses and buttoning his coat. They had to go after her. John knew that very well, but he couldn't keep his gaze from moving to Harold's lips, which were currently in a tight line.

 

"Don't ever do that again," Harold hissed angrily and with a limp slowly trailed after the woman.

 

John touched his earpiece. He sure as hell wouldn't yell for Harold on the street. "We need to talk."

 

"No, we don't." Harold’s answer was terse and immediate.

 

"You kissed me back," John whispered with a hint of a smile.

 

"You kissed me first."

 

"Are we on a playground now, Harold?" That was clearly not the wisest thing to say, because Harold sharply turned back to him.

 

"You think you have the answer to everything, don't you? You think you should be making the decisions about my life and my body for me?!"

 

John stood there baffled.

 

"Well, I certainly think not! This was the last time you make a decision for me, Mr. Reese!"

 

"Harold," John gently cupped Harold's face in his palm. He would never take advantage of his friend that way. He would never forced Harold to kiss him under normal circumstances. "I would never do that."

 

"But you DID!" Harold raised his voice desperately. It broke on the last word. Harold's shoulders sagged with defeat and he whispered: "You did. You made me watch you being gunned down, John. I was standing there imagining you dying alone."

 

Harold's eyes slowly brimmed with tears. John finally understood how much he had hurt this man, his friend. With a said sigh, John's mouth lifted in a corner in a small smile. "You wanted me to go through the same thing, Harold. You wanted to be the one who would save us and die in the process."

 

"Yes, because I deserved it. I was the one who created the Machine. My friend made foundations for Samaritan. You were just an innocent man I brought into the mess. You didn't deserve to die. Not for me. Not for something that was my fault. It was not your responsibility to save the world, John."

 

"But it's my responsibility to save you," John told him truthfully. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to save you. You're someone the world can't afford to lose." John  remembered he once told Harold the same thing. "You're someone who  _ I  _ can't afford to lose, Harold."

 

John watched Harold closing his eyes and finally leaned into his palm.

 

" _ Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and greet each other. _ " Harold said with a sad smile and looked at John again.

 

"Really, Harold?" John knew the quote belonged to one of the poetry books from Rainer Maria Rilke. He saw Harold reading them frequently. John's lips stretched into a big smile. Two could play the game. " _ That's love: Two lonely persons keep each other safe and touch each other and talk to each other. _ "

 

"You read his quotes?" Harold's eyes widened in surprise.

 

"You had the book in your hands often enough. I'm still a CIA agent. You can find out a lot about people based on the books they read." John let the silence between them grow. It wasn't uncomfortable like before. It felt like bliss looking at each other and not hiding anything. They didn't have to talk. They just had to stay together.

 

"Sorry to interrupt your slightly inappropriate conversation. Congratulation on pulling your heads from your asses, but we have a problem. Our Number is gone," Shaw whispered tightly to their earpieces.

 

"Oh," Harold took a step back. They didn't even think about the work. In synchronized manner, John and Harold were both on the way to the girlfriend’s apartment without a word.       

 

"Miss Shaw, our Number’s girlfriend bought a bottle of vine few minutes ago. It's highly possible he could be on his way to her," Harold informed his colleague.  

 

"Well, you can check it out. You two are closer. I'm staying in the car in front of his apartment. By the way next time, try to shut off the communication channel. I don't need to know everything," Shaw informed them flippantly.

 

John knew Sameen was right, but he smirked at Harold anyway. The older man gave him a small smile back. "Are you sure?"

 

"Don't tempt me, Reese," Shaw growled.

 

"Our apologies, Miss Shaw. It won't happen again." Harold assured her quickly.

 

They were slowly nearing the car Harold abandoned in his haste to follow the girlfriend. They could both see a shadow of a man making his way to the apartment complex.

 

"He's here," John opened the door for Harold and didn't even glance after their Number.

 

"John, we can't just sit here and do nothing. Two people sitting long hours in the car would look suspicious. The first thing he would notice would be us."

 

"Quite on the contrary, Harold. What is the most obvious reason for us to be together in this car after the girlfriend saw us together on the street?" John smirked.

“Reese,” Sameen’s voice broke their long gaze. “I swear; I will kill you if you don’t turn off your comm!” 

 

**The end**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, every comment, hit and cudos are highly appreciated. :)


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